


31 Day October Drabble Challenge - Spooky Scary Skeletons

by SheeWolf85



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluffy, Multi, October, Skeletons, Spooky, drabble challenge, individual tags in chapter notes, ratings and tags will vary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-11-09 02:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20845904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheeWolf85/pseuds/SheeWolf85
Summary: Happy Spooktober!All of these drabbles will be themed around Autumn and/or Halloween or the Halloween spirit, but not all of them will be scary. Some will probably be fluffy and maybe some will be a bit angsty. As of right now, I’m not sure what all will end up in these drabbles, so I’ll be sure to put a warning on any chapters containing any gore or anything more than mild violence/horror. I’m going to aim for around 500 words per prompt, but we’ll see what happens.Also, the characters and pairings will vary per chapter. I can guarantee that every one of them will star a skeleton, but I would like to use this time to branch out a little bit. Each chapter will have the rating, characters, ship (if applicable), and any warnings in the opening, so be sure to read those.





	1. Night (M)

**Characters:** Stretch, Edge, Gaster  
**Pairing: ** Spicyhoney  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings/Tags: ** Sleep Paralysis, mild horror, established relationship, sleep paralysis hallucinations, demon goopy Gaster    


Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676).

* * *

It always started the same way. Stretch would wake up to the sound of something dripping, like a leaky faucet. As he became more aware of the sound, it would shift and distort, become thicker like oil, and he would try to sit up to figure out where it was coming from. 

Only, he couldn’t sit up. Couldn’t move at all. Soon a feeling of cold, dark dread would creep over him as if death itself had entered the room. 

It had happened the same way since he was a young teenager, the night after he’d woken up in the labs with his younger brother and knew that something big had changed. He couldn’t ever place what it was, but something was missing. It didn’t happen every night, and had diminished over time, but at least twice a month he would wake to the same hallucinations he’d had as a teen.

This night was no different. As Stretch lay there on his back, he tried to control whatever parts of him he could. He kept his sockets shut as best he could and sucked in quick, sharp breaths. If he was lucky, his husband would hear his breathing and wake up to help him. If not, then he was in for a hell of a night. 

A soft groan, deep and unsettling, seemed to come from right beside him. His sockets flew open, but he couldn’t even turn his head to see what it was. He knew what it was. It was the same every damn time. 

With all the effort he could muster, he tried to reach out a finger to get Edge’s attention. His fingers only twitched helplessly. He couldn’t even whimper or call out, couldn’t open his mouth.

“Papyrus…” The voice was distorted and sounded as hollow as the void, seemed to echo in his head. “...help...me…”

Beside him, just off the side of the bed, a dark figure began to rise. He felt something thick and gooey splatter against his bones, the same thing that caused the dripping noises. It was black as night and just as cold. Large hands crept over him while a pale face leaned over him.

The figure moved as if it were made of the leaky substance, as if it couldn’t stand up straight. The only solid parts of it were its hands and face. The face was cracked through each socket, and yet still managed to stay together.

“...please…” 

Stretch thought he might scream as he stared into those hollow sockets. He could feel how much this being wanted to take him, wanted to use his body as a conduit to live in this world again. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure, but he was absolutely positive that the thing wanted to cast his soul out and inhabit his bones.

“Stretch?” Edge’s voice cut through the air like a bullet, shattering the being’s concentration. Then Edge’s hand took his, gently squeezing. “Love? You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s time to wake up now.”

A deep growl erupted from the dark figure, and then it vanished. Stretch blinked a few times, suddenly able to control his own body once again. He sucked in a deep breath and turned over to lean into his husband. 

Edge wrapped his arms around Stretch and held tightly. “Shhh, love, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Stretch nodded, unable to stop himself from crying. He couldn’t express how terrified he’d been, nor could he convey to Edge how thankful he was that he was out of it now. Instead of trying, he sniffled and leaned back a little. 

“thanks, babe,” he said, trying for nonchalance. 

Edge saw right through him. Instead of calling him out, however, he just leaned in and gave Stretch a small kiss. “Anytime.”

Together they got up and got Stretch a drink, then went back to bed. Stretch snuggled up to his baby and held on tightly. If he was sure of anything, it was that Edge would protect him. 


	2. Fangs (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For SansyFresh. I really tried to make it spooky, but this turned out a bit fluffier than I had first pictured. Still, please read the warnings in the chapter heading. 
> 
> Also, remember when I said I was going to try for 500 words per prompt? 
> 
> *cackles off into the sunset*

**Characters: ** Sans, Edge  
**Pairing: ** Kedgeup  
**Rating: ** M  
**Warnings/Tags: ** Vampire AU, blood, minor gore, mild horror, worries about cheating, spying, mentions of sex (nothing graphic)

Find the list of prompts here. 

* * *

For the first several months of their relationship, everything seemed great. Edge was a compassionate and generous partner, and Sans couldn’t think of anything he could possibly want more. 

He’d known Edge for a few years now, had first compared him to his own brother, Papyrus. They could almost be twins on first glance. It didn’t take long to realize that he wasn’t anything like his brother at all, however, and once Sans could see past his first impressions it wasn’t long before he was falling head over heels. 

Edge wasn’t as eager for a relationship. In fact, it seemed at first he was determined to hold Sans at arm’s length. Sans wasn’t desperate, but he was patient, and over time he eroded away that outer layer of discomfort. 

Even when they started dating, however, Sans noticed that there were a few odd things about his datemate. 

The first was that Sans was not allowed to sleep over at Edge’s place. They could go there, but only after Edge had a chance to prepare, and never at night. Sans assumed it was because he was a bit of a clean freak, a trait he did actually share with Papyrus. 

The second was that dates had to end by ten o’clock, not a second later. Earlier was fine, but Edge had been known to apologize and beat a hasty retreat anytime they let the hour get away from them. 

They had been dating for two months before Edge allowed any romantic contact beyond simple kisses. Another month passed before he felt comfortable enough for anything past first base. Again, Sans was patient; he wasn’t about to push his boyfriend past his comfort zone. He wanted Edge, that was a fact, but he’d much rather wait until Edge was sure he was ready.

The wait had been worth it, of course. Sans thought it was a little strange that Edge would only allow them to have sex in the daytime, but he didn’t question it. If that was what Edge was comfortable with, Sans was alright with that. 

Recently, Edge had allowed them to sleep together at night, but absolutely no sex. Only sleep. And they had to sleep over at Sans’ place, which wasn’t awkward at all considering he still lived with his brother. Edge would leave early, skipping out on breakfast that Papyrus had worked hard to prepare. 

As odd as any of that was, Sans just chalked it up to Edge being a particular kind of guy. None of the odd things he did was any kind of deal breaker, and frankly, Sans was willing to put up with weirder shit for the opportunity to be with someone like Edge.

However strange he could be, Edge was passionate. He was kind and loving and fiercely protective. He had never once made fun of Sans for his low HP or berated him for not being able to keep up with Edge and his rampant physical activity. Edge was a hiker and a climber, he enjoyed being outside in the sun and was always on the go. That didn’t stop him from slowing down to Sans’ pace when they were together, though. He never complained. Hell, he’d even once said it was nice to slow down once in a while and really take in the beauty of the world around him, all the while looking right at Sans like he was the beauty Edge was talking about.

And then…

Sans would never forget that night. Papyrus wasn’t feeling great, and so Sans had gone out to the convenience store around the corner for some medicine. It wasn’t the cheapest place, but the drug store was half a mile away and everywhere else closer was closed for the night. 

As he walked out of the store, bag in hand, he happened to glance up across the street just as Edge disappeared around a corner, his arm around the shoulders of a human woman. He was smiling, the same smile he gave Sans when they were flirting with each other. 

He had to be hallucinating. It wasn’t Edge; it was...another skeleton who happened to look like him? 

Sure, because there were  _ so many _ skeleton monsters in their area. 

That night planted a seed, and no matter how hard he tried, Sans couldn’t get rid of it. He tried to talk to Edge about it, ask what was going on that night, but he couldn’t. He was worried that Edge would either get upset or smoothly lie about whatever it was. 

So instead, he turned to the other logical solution. He started spying on his boyfriend. 

At first, all he saw was the typical stuff he knew Edge to do. Nothing truly out of the ordinary happened until a few days later when he saw Edge walking with another human woman, his arm around her as he’d done previously. She wasn’t the same as the one he’d seen before. 

He followed them for a minute until he realized that Edge was taking her home. It was after dark, and he was taking her to his house. 

Sans just went home after that to think about what he’d seen. Should he confront Edge? If he did, and Edge tried to lie about it, what would he even say? But if Edge didn’t lie...Sans couldn’t see a way for their relationship to continue if he said anything. 

But how could it continue either way? Edge was cheating on him. Just the thought of it made him feel gross. He didn’t have anything against humans, but how could Edge claim to love him and then do this? He just knew he’d be thinking about where Edge’s fingers had been the next time they tried to have sex. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There had to be another explanation. What it was, Sans didn’t have a clue, but he couldn’t help but think about the look on Edge’s face when they shared quiet moments or when they talked about what the future might hold for them. He seemed truly invested in their relationship. 

He chose not to say anything yet again, keeping everything he knew tucked away in his head. He didn’t tell Papyrus about his concerns. Instead, he pretended that everything was normal. 

A few nights later, he caught Edge with another human, this one a man. He followed them again, and thought about how he was going to get inside the house after Edge shut the door. He gave it a few minutes before he ultimately decided he was just going to have to bust Edge in the act. He couldn’t deny anything then. He was bound to get angry, but at least it destroyed the possibility of him pretending he was innocent and convincing Sans that nothing was wrong. 

He waited about ten minutes, then took a breath for courage, and teleported into the living room. 

He had thought Edge would have taken the man to his bedroom. He was so wrong. He’d been wrong about everything. 

Sans stepped out of the teleport in time to hear the man scream, the sound cut off as Edge grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back to expose his throat. His other arm was wrapped tightly around the human’s torso, holding his arms down as he struggled, his face twisted in terror. 

Then Edge opened his mouth, his sharp teeth resembling the blades of a saw as he ducked his head and bit down. The man screamed again as Edge ripped out a chunk of flesh. Blood spurted across the room, spattering crimson over Edge’s dark furniture and over Sans as he watched in horror. 

Edge bit down again, this time sucking deeply and drinking from the human until he was limp and pallid. Blood trickled down Edge’s chin and the man’s clothing as Edge grunted and growled, kneeled down when dead weight was too much to hold on his own. 

He let the body fall the rest of the way to the floor and sucked in a huge breath. Sans still stood in the corner of the room, staring with wide sockets at what he’d just witnessed. 

“Uh…”

He hadn’t meant to make a noise. It was a whimper more than anything else, but Edge reacted as if he’d just shouted. 

He quickly jumped to his feet, a weapon sparking to life in his hand as he turned to Sans. He was growling, his face contorted into a fearsome snarl, and all Sans could think was that this was how he was going to die. He couldn’t move, couldn’t force himself to dodge anything as his boyfriend lunged at him. 

But nothing happened. Edge just...stopped. He stood there, blood still dripping from his chin and dead body at his feet, staring. 

“Sans?”

Sans opened his sockets, unaware when he’d shut them, and looked up at Edge tearfully. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he yelled, weapon dissipating. He took another step forward, and this time Sans was able to move backward. 

“i’m sorry,” he managed, starting to shake. What was Edge going to have to do to him now that he’d witnessed a murder?

Edge fell to his knees again in front of Sans and reached out, his fingers crimson but not from magic. He stopped short and brought his hands back to his lap. 

“Please tell me what you’re doing,” he asked, his voice low and calm. “Why are you here?”

Sans swallowed and tried to think of any kind of good explanation. There wasn’t one. 

“i thought you were cheating on me,” he said lamely. 

Edge sighed. “And so you were spying on me?” He shook his head. “I wondered, but I convinced myself that you wouldn’t do that.” He climbed back to his feet and went to sit on the couch, flopping down as if the weight of the world had pushed him. “I should have known better.”

Somehow, a trickle of shame went through Sans’ soul. He still stood in his spot, his eye lights flickering between Edge and the dead body on the floor. 

“what happens now?” he asked, nervous to hear the answer. Papyrus would miss him. Might even suspect something. If he came investigating, would Edge have to kill him too?

Edge looked over at him, a whole world of pain in his eyes. “You go home, Sans. You clean yourself up and you decide how much you want to say to authorities. I move on and recreate myself. Again.”

Sans stared for a moment too long, blinking as he tried to process what was said. “you’re not going to kill me?”

Edge didn’t say anything for a long moment. Sans was probably imagining things when he saw a tear fall down Edge's cheek. 

“Of course not,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I could never hurt you.”

“but you...you’re…”

“A vampire, yes.” Edge sat up then and leaned forward, his hands dangling limply between his knees. “I don’t kill because I enjoy it, Sans. I have to in order to survive. I choose my victims carefully to avoid getting caught. Apparently I wasn’t as careful as I thought I was.” He shook his head again, then wiped at the nearly dried blood on his face. 

“if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t suspect anything because of the victims you picked.” 

Edge huffed, a faint smile on his face. “No, that doesn’t make me feel any better, but thank you for trying. You always were far too good for me.”

Sans was finally starting to comprehend that Edge wasn’t going to hurt him. Fear for himself began eroding away, leaving a different kind of anxiety in its place. He managed to make his feet move enough to carry him over to the couch where he sat, carefully avoiding any blood spatters. 

“so you’re just gonna leave?”

Edge looked at him again, and this time he didn’t seem scary. He looked sad. “What choice do I have?”

Sans shrugged. “you could stay.”

“Yes, because angry mobs are always a joy to encounter.” He looked down at the body on the floor. “Nobody cared about that man. He had no family, no friends. He was suicidal. The only thing I regret about choosing him was that he honestly believed I cared about where he slept tonight. I tried to make it quick for him. If there’s a way to make it painless, I haven’t found it yet.” He shook his head again. “But that doesn’t matter, because when people hear that I killed him, they’ll retaliate.”

“who’s gonna hear that?” Sans asked, honestly confused. 

“Please don’t pretend you won’t say anything, Sans. They always do.”

Sans stiffened. “i’m not ‘they’, edge. how often do you have to do this?” He gestured to the body.

“Two to three times a week. When there’s no viable candidate close by, I will travel. There’s always someone with no attachments, nobody to miss or mourn them.”

Sans nodded. “and have you ever lured them with sex?” That would be a deal breaker, Sans decided. He still wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t put Edge in that kind of danger, but he would call off the relationship.

Edge’s back stiffened, just barely. “I used to,” he confessed. “Back before I knew you. Even after that, but before we got together. When I realized that I wanted to be with you, I stopped. It’s just as easy to lure someone with the promise of a good meal, anyway.”

That was alright, Sans thought. He couldn’t exactly fault Edge for doing something before they’d even met, especially considering Edge wasn’t his first partner. 

“and you swear you’ll never hurt papyrus?” he asked. 

Edge smirked. “Of course I wouldn’t hurt him. While I can feed on monster magic, I actually find that I get more out of humans. Their blood is filling and their souls are…” he stopped when he looked over to see Sans grimacing. “I’m sorry. Just suffice to say that I stick to humans.”

Sans nodded. “sounds good. so, question: how can you be out in the sun? isn't that supposed to be deadly?"

"Humans got a lot of things wrong. They want to pretend we have weaknesses that will make them safe in certain situations, and I have no desire to change their minds."

That made sense, and answered a few of Sans' other questions about garlic and crosses. 

"alright. so, can i use your shower? and how are we gonna get rid of the body?”

Edge blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“you’re stuck with me, loverboy.” His smile faded. “unless...unless you don’t want to be, that is. it’s probably kind of weird dating someone who knows your secret, isn’t it?”

The smile that broke out on his face made Sans’ soul skip a beat. “I’ve never actually dated anyone who knew. The moment they found out is the moment they told everyone and the mobs assembled. You’re really okay with this?”

“‘okay’ isn’t really the word i’d use. maybe ‘working on finding a way to deal’ is better. but i kinda know you, y’know? and i like you. if we can be us and you can keep doing your thing without all the secrets, then i’ll make it work.”

Edge nodded. “Thank you, Sans. Yes, you can use my shower, and I’ll take care of the body myself. I don’t want you getting your hands dirty for my sake.”

“okay, but how’re you gonna do that? you gonna bury it?” He was suddenly insanely curious to know how Edge had managed to hide so many bodies. 

Edge raised a brow. “Do you really want to know?” He flashed his teeth, a hint at something Sans was certain he didn’t want to think about. 

“uh...probably not.”

“Wise choice. Go shower; you can borrow a shirt to sleep in for the night. Also remember to let your brother know where you are. And Sans?”

Edge reached out to pull Sans closer to him on the couch. The blood on his hands was dry now and it felt strange against Sans’ face as he touched him. 

“Thank you again. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I think I’ll keep you.”

He leaned in then, and they shared a kiss. Sans grabbed the front of Edge’s shirt and pulled him in closer, kissing him deeply. He was already a mess anyway; might as well go for broke before he cleaned up.


	3. Rain (G)

**Characters: ** Sans, Frisk, Papyrus  
**Pairing: ** N/A — platonic boys and Frisk  
**Rating: ** G  
**Warnings: ** None? Nonbinary Frisk, post-pacifist, friendly fluff

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

Sans sucked in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. He was used to cold, having lived in Snowdin for so long. He was also used to rain; Waterfall had a pretty decent approximation thanks to the actual river falling through the mountain, but also the condensation that would accumulate on the cave’s ceiling only to drip down in occasional torrents. 

What he wasn’t expecting—no monster was, really—was just how differently the cold and rain could mix together on the surface. 

They’d first come to the surface in the middle of summer. It had been warm, and their first experience with real rain had been an early autumn thunderstorm. 

Despite the thunder sounding too much like cave-ins for some monsters, and the lightning was just plain creepy sometimes, the warmth and humidity in the air was similar to what many were familiar with. 

As the air became colder and leaves changed color and fell from trees, monsters everywhere slowly learned to revel in the occasional thunderstorms that would turn their dusty roads into mud puddles for children to play in. 

The door behind him slid open, and Sans turned to smile at Frisk as they sat next to him on the swinging bench. 

“Quite a storm we’re having,” they said quietly. 

Sans nodded. Frisk had really come out of their shell over the last few months, and he couldn’t be more proud. They had decided to try their best at being an ambassador, put aside their own crippling fear and self-doubt in the name of helping monsterkind, and they were doing a spectacular job of it. Papyrus was helping, ever the courageous soul, and he had helped Frisk to realize some of their potential. 

“yeah, real fowl weather. raining chickens and ducks.”

Frisk snorted. “Not your best one.”

“why do cows lie down in the rain? to keep each udder dry.”

Frisk just gave him a side-eye. 

“no?” He shrugged. “can’t win ‘em all. guess i’m all washed out. my jokes have gone watery. next thing ya know i’ll be tellin’ ya that clouds keep their money in cloud banks.”

Frisk was giggling by the time he’d finished, trying to hide their smile. He really loved that smile. When they’d first met, it was rare to see them with any expression other than fear or sadness. Now those were the rare expressions. 

The door opened again and this time Papyrus stepped out. 

“What are you two doing out here?” he asked, rubbing at his humeri as if he were actually cold. “It’s chilly! We’re just setting up for an epic game of Checkers. You should come in and join us.”

Sans and Frisk shared a smirking glance and nodded before getting up and following Papyrus to what was surely four or five different boards put together to allow several monsters to play at the same time. 

Outside, the rain continued to fall and the temperature to drop, but inside was warm and dry as the friends all played together. 


	4. Walking Dogs (T)

**Characters: **Papyrus, Sans, Dogami and Dogaressa’s puppies  
**Pairing: **N/A (background Dogi), (maybe the ongoing love/hate relationship between Papyrus and puns)  
**Rating: **T  
**Warnings: **None? Monsters on the surface, puppies, a bit funny, you could say...humerus, punny, poor Papyrus. This was essentially an excuse to use Halloween puns.

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676%C2%A0). 

* * *

Papyrus was up early as usual, back from his brisk walk in the cool autumn air before even the sun woke up. He made a grand breakfast of oatmeal (the kind with the dinosaur eggs, of course! Nothing but the best for The Great Papyrus!) and orange juice and planned his day as he ate. 

He was excited for the day. Dogamy and Dogaressa had recently expressed an interest in taking a day to themselves. They’d had a litter of puppies who were now five years old and quite the handful each, and every now and then they took time to nurture their marriage. 

Papyrus had volunteered first to watch the puppies. He’d already proven himself great with children; he was one of the most beloved teachers at Toriel’s school for monsters. He had the energy required to keep up with all four of them, and he wouldn’t let their day be squandered with video games and sweets. 

The Dogi would be dropping the puppies off just before noon and then picking them up around six in the evening. 

As he ate, he checked the weather app on his phone. The day was going to be mildly chilly, but sunny all day without a trace of clouds or rain. It would be perfect for a walk through the park, he decided, and made a mental note to wear a comfortable sweater with a shirt underneath in case it got too warm. 

After breakfast, Papyrus cleaned up the kitchen then went to shower and change his clothes. He decided to wear a sweater that some of his students had banded together to give him the year before; it was soft gray wool with little candy corns spread all over.

At eleven o’clock, Sans finally got out of bed, and Papyrus did his duty in scolding his brother for sleeping so late. He then made sure that Sans got a nutritious breakfast and a shower before the puppies showed up. 

Right at noon, there was a knock on the door. He grinned widely and dashed to open it, revealing the Dogi with puppies in tow.

“Good afternoon, Papyrus!” Dogaressa said happily as she leaned forward to hug him. He accepted a hug from Dogamy as well after he ushered them inside. 

He then knelt down and let the puppies swarm him. 

They all yipped happily as one attempted to climb him. 

“Now Zev, behave yourself,” Dogamy chided. 

Zev was the only boy of the litter and had his mother’s bright eyes and his father’s curled coif. He had been dressed in an orange and brown plaid shirt with adorably tiny jeans and sneakers. His little ears fell back as he looked up at his dad and apologized. 

The three girls, Ula, Lupita, and Ylva, calmed down as well. They were all wearing the same dress but in different colors. Ula’s was pink, Lupita’s was purple, and Ylva’s was yellow. 

Papyrus stood back up and accepted two very packed bags from the proud parents. 

“Thank you so much for this,” Dogaressa said with a smile. “We both really appreciate it.”

“Any time at all! We’re going to have a great time, aren’t we?” Papyrus looked down at the puppies who all nodded vigorously. 

“Very well; we’ll be on our way then,” Dogamy said. Both he and his wife knelt down to say goodbye to their children.

After a few sweet hugs, the Dogi left and Papyrus shut the door. He turned to the puppies, who all looked up at him with eager expressions on their adorable faces. 

He clapped his hands together once. “Okay! Who’s ready for some fun?”

All four puppies jumped up, their paws in the air, and screeched their agreement. 

* * *

An hour later, Papyrus, the puppies, and Sans were all strolling along the paths at the local park. Humans had brought their pet dogs, which Papyrus was both delighted and somewhat perturbed by. 

Some of the pet dogs could be sweet as peach cobbler, very well behaved, and leave Papyrus feeling loved. Others…well, others reminded him of one dog in particular. A distant relative of the Dogi, he’d been told, Annoying Dog still, to this day, lived up to its name. 

He did his best to ignore those dogs and instead smiled at how the puppies in his care played with them. 

Most humans were very good with the puppies, too. They were very obviously not pets, considering they walked on their hind legs and wore clothing, but they still loved scritches and treats. Papyrus had to make sure that not too many humans gave them dog treats. Even if the human equivalent wasn’t the same thing as Doggo’s treats, they still didn’t need to fill up on them when Papyrus had a healthy dinner planned for later. 

“heh...paps, look.” Sans pointed over at a human, and Papyrus dutifully looked to see what had caught his brother’s attention. 

The human family was standing by their baby’s stroller. At first, Papyrus didn’t see what was so interesting about it until he noticed the father’s shirt. 

The shirt was black with a cartoon image of a ghost holding a bottle of some sort. Underneath the cartoon was the caption: “I’m just here for the **BOO**’S.”

Papyrus sighed. “Of course you would find that funny, Sans,” he said distastefully. “You have a very lazy sense of humor.” While he himself enjoyed a good jape, they were supposed to be something a person could take pride in. The buildup should have a rewarding conclusion, it should take work and drive and energy. 

Sans snickered again, this time pointing out another human couple. The woman was wearing another punny shirt, just as lazy as the first person’s. Papyrus decided to ignore it in favor of watching the puppies play together in the soft grass. 

When Sans made another sound like he was choking on something, Papyrus looked over worriedly only to see him smiling that same grin that meant something terrible and punny was about to happen.

“oh, man...bro...you gotta see that one. holy cow!” He pointed at a passing couple. 

The man’s shirt was black again, and this one had a dancing skeleton on the front. Not too bad. The caption, however, read: “I don’t need no body!”

“I don’t see why you find that so funny,” Papyrus sighed. Deep inside, down where he would never, ever let anyone see it, he thought it was a little funny. 

It seemed a little odd that Sans would be finding so many punny t-shirts. As Papyrus began looking around, something horrible dawned on him. 

Everyone was wearing a punny shirt!

One had a cartoon representation of vampire teeth with a caption that said: “Vampire puns suck!”

Another one had an image of a ghost from the backend with a defined buttocks that said: “I put the **BOO** in **BOO**TY.” 

One woman was wearing a bedazzled shirt with an image of a red-faced person with what seemed to be a cross of a zombie and a ghost. The shirt stated that, “Demons are a ghoul’s best friend.”

Several others, pun after pun caught Papyrus’ attention until Sans was downright cackling next to him. 

“Look, Papyrus!” Zev cried out happily. “You’re wearing one, too!”

He looked down at himself. His sweater was just gray with candy corns, no puns at all! He wouldn’t wear one!

And yet, the front of his shirt had been cleared of all corns while they were still scattered around the rest. In the blank spot was a pumpkin filled to overspilling with candies and over the top of the pumpkin said: “Halloween puns are corny.”

“NO!” Papyrus cried out.

He sat straight up in bed, sweating and panting. 

He looked around his room, reality settling in as he sighed in relief. It had only been a nightmare! 

His day with the puppies had been normal and wonderful. After their walk in the park and the singular punny shirt they’d seen, they’d come home and Papyrus had made a wholesome, delicious dinner. The Dogi had come to get their puppies at the agreed-upon time, and then Papyrus had decided to take a nap after realizing he was a little tired after his day of fun. 

A knock on his door let him know of Sans’ presence before the door swung open. His brother stepped in holding a cup of tea. 

“you okay, bro? heard ya call out.” 

Papyrus nodded. “Yes, I’m okay. It was just--” 

Before he could finish his sentence, he realized what his brother was wearing. He stared, mouth open, as his right socket twitched. 

“it was just what?”

Sans’ shirt was pink with a black cat on the front holding a bone. The caption? “I found this humerus.”

Papyrus’ frustrated scream echoed through the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: All of the Dogi’s puppies names mean “wolf” in various languages. I wanted to name them something that meant just “dog” but I couldn’t find names that I liked and I didn’t take the time to pun up a few good ones.


	5. Falling Leaves (T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm so sorry I'm late as FUCK! Many things be happening in RL, and I'm still processing but we're getting there. Had a bit of time to write today, so I got a couple of these done. I hope to have more time throughout the week and this weekend to get caught up and maybe work on the sexy ones a bit more.

**Characters: ** Rus (Swap Papyrus)  
**Pairing: ** N/A  
**Rating: ** T  
**Warnings: ** A little spooky, possible stalking, paranoia, Monsters on the surface

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

Being on the surface was, overall, better than Rus had thought it could be. It wasn’t the unconstrained freedom that many had dreamed of, but it wasn’t full of hate and bigotry as others had feared. 

Monsters were, for all intents and purposes, caged off in a section of the city that had taken the humans a year to construct. Was it better than being underground? Hell yes. Was it disappointing that they couldn’t travel and see all the wonders the above ground had to offer? Also yes. 

After two years in their little part of the city, their numbers were growing and it was almost getting too crowded. Blue had let Rus know that the Embassy was working on negotiating an expansion with the humans, but that could take a while. 

One of the worst things about the surface was that it hadn’t cured Rus’ depression the way Blue had seemed convinced it would. He was happy on the surface; truly, he was. Why he still felt like his soul was caving in on itself sometimes, he didn’t know. All he knew was that some nights it was better to walk than to try to sleep where he would only be plagued by nightmares and thoughts that the people he loved would be better off without him. 

Walking under the stars was refreshing at first. It still was, to a degree. Now, however, instead of the awe of looking up at the stars, Rus only ever felt like he was trying to run away from something. Not that he ever actually ran, but there was a strange sense of urgency to go back to the house and stay there. He chalked it up to his mental health trying to seclude him from the outside world. 

That night, he’d been walking for close to an hour when he checked his phone. He had to make sure he made it back before Blue got up. His phone read two o’clock in the morning. 

Tucking his phone back into his hoodie pocket, he continued on down the chilly path, leaves crunching under his untied sneakers. 

Autumn was a strange season. It was chilly in the evenings and warm during the day, something that had never been experienced underground. Whether you were in Snowdin, Waterfall, or Hotland, the temperature was a constant. You could expect cold in Snowdin no matter the time of year. Hotland would melt your face off, and Waterfall was great for a steamy sauna. 

Up here, however, things changed all the time. All the pretty, green leaves would change colors, curl up and fall from the trees. 

Rus looked up and watched a leaf as it fell, adding itself to a puddle in the grass off to the side of the path. He took a deep breath of the crisp air and let it out slowly, watching the puff of breath as it dissipated into the wind. 

After another few minutes of walking, Rus suddenly stopped. He stood still and listened to the world around him. He could have sworn he heard extra leaves crunching, as if someone was walking behind him. 

He turned and looked back, expecting to see someone, maybe a monster walking home from a late shift, but nobody was there. Only the trees and leaves and the paved path he was walking barely lit by a few dim streetlamps. 

It must have been his imagination. Shrugging it off, Rus turned back around and continued walking. 

Only a few minutes later, he heard it again. He stopped again, and so did the sound. Instead of turning, he shook himself and walked faster. 

Immediately, the extra set of crunching footsteps started up again. He didn’t stop that time, only kept walking, but he listened carefully. He distinctly heard his own feet crunching leaves along with a separate, slightly off-timed set. It wasn’t an echo; there was nothing for the sound to bounce off of. 

Without giving any indication of what he was about to do, Rus immediately jumped to the side of the path and turned, looking back down the path where he’d come from. 

There was no one there. The leaves looked like they’d been kicked around some, but that could have been from his own feet. 

But he knew what he’d heard. How could he have heard someone else if there was no one there? 

He didn’t believe in ghosts. Not in the way humans talked about them. Sure, there were a few incorporeal monsters, but they didn’t crunch leaves. They didn’t even walk; they hovered wherever they went. 

So why was it that he felt a chill run through his bones? Why did he suddenly feel like he was being watched? He shivered and decided it was time to go home. 

He didn’t walk, too nervous he’d hear things that weren’t there again. This time, he teleported to his front door and wiped the mess of leaves off his shoes before he teleported again to his bedroom. 

Emptying his hoodie pocket onto his nightstand, he kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long while, trying to figure out what exactly happened out there among the leaves. 

As he came up with different theories, he decided he’d just have to use his phone to record behind him if it happened again.


	6. Pumpkin (T+)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say other than I didn't want to write schmoop about Spicyhoney carving pumpkins. I mean, that's great and all, but I wanted something kinda spooky? I don't think I managed spooky at all, but I did manage to come up with something perhaps unusual for the prompt.

**Characters: ** Stretch, Edge, Shopowner OC  
**Pairing: ** N/A - Could be considered pre-spicyhoney  
**Rating: ** T+  
**Warnings: ** Harassment, non-graphic and verbal sexual harassment, feeling trapped, unexpected savior, Monsters on the surface, not multiverse (Skeles are not diff versions of each other but each their own person)

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

Stretch really hated coming into this store. Unfortunately, their town wasn’t that big and it was the only place he could get a few supplies that his brother needed for their upcoming barbecue. 

The shop owner was nice enough when Stretch came in with Blue. He was a tall, thin rabbit monster who was well-known around town. Blue never believed Stretch when he said the kinds of things the owner said to him. Blue insisted that Stretch must have misunderstood, that Bunnard was just being friendly. 

He was being friendly alright. Way too friendly. 

“Afternoon, Stretch,” Bunnard called out, waving at him. 

Stretch nodded back and quickly went to get what his brother needed. He sorely wished Blue had been able to come with, but he was too busy with work and the rest of the preparation. Half the town had been invited, Bunnard included, and Stretch was only looking forward to the food. 

As he scanned the aisle for the last remaining item, the bell above the entrance to the shop dinged. The hard footsteps of someone wearing heavy boots and the rattle of chains could be heard as the newcomer came in. Curious, Stretch leaned over to peek around the corner where he could see another tall skeleton, not unlike himself.

The way he was dressed, however, was the polar opposite of Stretch’s bright orange sweater and comfortable jeans. 

The skeleton was dressed head to toe in black, his pants and his jacket made of leather. His boots resembled those Stretch had seen on people in the military, thick soles and obvious heavy tread, but they were also black. His boots and jacket were criss-crossed with various silver chains. 

Stretch had never seen this guy before. Even if he’d been around wearing something less unusual, it would have been impossible to miss his sharp teeth and glaring red eye lights. He looked like he’d stepped out of a haunted house inhabited by gothic bikers. 

Stretch shuddered to himself and hurried to find the last thing he needed. It was hiding good, and by the time he finally found it, the strange newcomer’s heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the aisle next to him. He grabbed it and tossed it in the handbasket, then hurried up to the counter to pay and leave. 

Bunnard smiled that creepy, leering smile he always seemed to save for Stretch and leaned into the counter, resting his hip against the edge. 

“Hey there, Pumpkin,” he said with an obvious flirt. 

Stretch grimaced. “that’s not my name.”

Bunnard let out a little laugh. “Yeah, but with your magic and the way you dress, you sure look like one.”

_ Gee, thanks.  _

“uh...okay?” he set the basket on the counter. “i just need these things.”

Bunnard frowned then. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I don’t mean you’re shaped like a pumpkin, honey. Only that your color reminds me of them. It’s a very _pretty_ color.”

Again with the pet names! Stretch hated them, especially coming from this guy. 

“my bro’s waiting for me; can you just ring me up, please?” Stretch started shifting his weight, thinking of the other monster in the store. 

“You know that’s something I do with all my customers, right? Different colors of magic remind me of different things.” Bunnard said with a little whine. “You don’t need to be rude about it.”

If Stretch was a stronger monster, if he had an ounce of gut to him, he’d show Bunnard what rude was. But, he wasn’t. He couldn’t afford to get into a fight with anyone, let alone such a prominent figure in the town. Bunnard would no doubt make up lies, and who would everyone believe? Certainly not Stretch.

“What about me?” A gruff voice said from behind him. 

Stretch whirled around to see the other skeleton standing there, a basket holding various fruits and vegetables dangling from his fingertips. 

“What about you?” Bunnard asked.

“You said you do that with all of your customers, so I’m asking you what about me? What does my magic remind you of?”

Stretch swallowed. He wasn’t sure what this guy was up to, but he got the feeling that he was standing in the middle of something he shouldn’t be. 

Bunnard scoffed. “Mind your own damn business.”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think I will. Either you’re dense or just plain ignoring hints, but it’s fairly obvious you’re making him uncomfortable.”

Bunnard looked right at Stretch then, and his smile was unnerving. “We’re just talking, aren’t we, Pumpkin? You’re not uncomfortable.”

The thing was, Stretch had never felt trapped before, not in any situation. He could teleport; how could he feel trapped when escape was a simple shortcut away? But now, if he did that, he’d be leaving without the things his brother had asked him to get. If he said he was uncomfortable, Bunnard would likely retaliate in some form or another. Stretch was in here alone at least twice a month. 

But if he said he wasn’t uncomfortable, he’d be lying. Not that he had any qualms about lying; sometimes it was necessary, but it was so painfully untrue that even the thought of saying it made him feel sick.

He shifted his weight again and peeked up at Bunnard. “um...i…” He trailed off, not sure what to say. Stars, he wished his brother was here. 

“I think that’s all the answer you need,” the other skeleton said. “Finish ringing him up and add mine to it. I’m paying.”

That made Stretch look up again. “what? no, i don’t need you to do that.”

“I’m aware, but I’m doing it anyway.” He stepped closer to the counter, smoothly nudging Stretch out of the way. 

Stretch only watched dumbly as Bunnard finished the transaction and took the payment. He took the bag the other monster handed him. As Bunnard started saying something, a hard hand gripped Stretch’s upper arm gently and led him out the door. 

Once outside, Stretch pulled away a little too harshly. “what the hell was that?” he demanded. “i’m not a damsel in distress; i didn’t need you to save me.”

The other skeleton nodded. “I can believe that. I apologize if I offended you at all. What I was doing was not being a bystander. I’ve seen people I care about get hurt because I didn’t do anything.”

Stretch didn’t have anything to say to that. He could admit that, to an outsider, what Bunnard was doing could look like harassment. And maybe it was. It probably was. Stretch just knew that no one would believe him, though, and he’d decided that it was something he was going to have to live with. 

“My name is Edge, by the way.” He held out a gloved hand, and Stretch shook it and introduced himself.. 

“thanks, edge. even if i didn’t need the help, i was pretty uncomfortable back there.”

Edge nodded. “It was obvious.”

“so, are you new in town or just passing through?”

As he asked the question, they started walking further from the building. Stretch was just going to teleport home; he didn’t drive and home was only a few blocks away. He followed Edge as he walked toward a gleaming red motorcycle. 

“New in town. My brother and I just moved in a few days ago.” Edge took a moment to tuck his bag into one of the saddle bags. He then looked around at the empty parking lot. The only other car was a white sedan parked to the side of the building, and it belonged to Bunnard. “Did you walk?”

While Stretch knew he wasn’t the only monster who could teleport, he wasn’t exactly keen on handing that information out to everyone who asked. Instead, he just nodded. 

Edge gestured to his bike. “Would you like a ride?”

Stretch instinctively took a step back. “uh...no thanks? i don’t like riding those.” He shook his head for emphasis.

“Alright.” Edge smirked. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

The town was pretty small; there was a good chance he would run into Edge again sometime soon. As he held his bag and twisted the lighter kept in his hoodie pocket between his fingers, he heard himself blurt out, “my brother’s having a big barbecue this weekend. half the town is coming. d’you maybe wanna come? you and your brother? you’d be more than welcome.” He already knew his brother would be thrilled to have more people come, especially new town residents.

Edge straddled his bike and set his hands on the handlebars, lifting it off the kickstand and kicking it back up with the heel of his boot. Stretch had to admit he looked good like that. 

“Is your brother Blue, by chance?” he asked as he unhooked his helmet and started to put it on.

“uh, yeah. how’d you know that?”

“I met him yesterday down at the high school. He’s a very efficient principal. He invited us already, and my brother agreed to go. I guess we’ll see you there.”

Stretch nodded and took another step back as started up the bike. It roared like an angry beast. Edge gave him another little wave goodbye, then took off down the road. 

Blue had mentioned a new history teacher was going to be starting soon. When Stretch had asked who it was, his brother had responded saying that he wouldn’t know them. 

He smirked to himself before teleporting home. First impressions could be a bitch sometimes. 


	7. Graveyard (T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, would you look at that! I'm not dead! 
> 
> I'm gonna try to use this weekend to get caught up on these drabbles and the Kinktober ones as well. We'll see how well that works.

**Characters: **Stretch, Edge  
**Pairing: **Spicyhoney  
**Rating: **T  
**Warnings: **None? Not conventionally spooky, Monsters on the surface

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

Stretch didn’t believe in ghosts. Not the way humans talked about them, anyway. He knew a few incorporeal monsters, and they were pretty friendly little dudes. 

He personally knew a few other monsters that fit the kind of spooky critters humans dressed up as on Halloween. Werewolf? Well, Ice Wolf didn’t exactly turn into a human on full moons, but he was close enough. Also a friendly dude. His work ethic was damn admirable, too. Skeleton? Well, uh, he was one and he was married to another, so sure he knew a few of those. 

Of the Halloween critters that he didn’t already know were zombies. He’d heard of them, sure, but he figured that like much of human lore, there wasn’t any actual truth behind them. 

Monsters turned to dust when they died. Their dust was spread on what they loved most, and for sure his own dust was going to be caked in Edge’s joints someday. Not a pretty thought, not one he ever spent any length of time considering, but the fact was that he was ten years older than Edge and had shitty health. Edge, on the other hand, was young, healthy as could be and would probably outlive half the underground. 

Anyway. Best not let those thoughts linger unless he wants to bring on another depressive episode. 

He brought himself back to the present and shivered. Edge inched closer to him and slung an arm around his shoulders, likely thinking he was cold. He was, a little; he should have taken Edge’s advice and worn something over his hoodie. 

That wasn’t the cause of his shiver, though. He and Edge, along with a few other monsters, were on a Halloween tour through the city of Ebott. Stretch had thought it would be fun; they’d get to learn more about the holiday through human eyes, and they’d find opportunities to shed light on their own traditions. 

All was going well until they entered the graveyard. Stretch knew what they were. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that human bodies didn’t turn to dust and that they were buried instead. But he’d never really thought about it, not past it being different from what monsters did. 

But now, standing inside of one while the tour guide talked about how some humans believed that certain circumstances could turn the dead bodies into vampires or zombies, Stretch became hyper aware that he was standing atop decaying human flesh. 

The more he thought about it, the more vivid the images in his head became. He understood now how humans could be afraid of their own dead coming back to attack them, how they might crave the blood or the flesh of the living. 

He shivered again and almost yelped when he realized he was standing right on top of a child’s grave. Instead, he tried to gently push Edge out of the way so he could get off the slightly raised pile of dirt and grass. 

“Love?” Edge whispered. “Are you okay?”

Stretch wasn’t actually sure how to answer that. A tiny part of him was nervous that Edge would laugh at him, but he knew that was just his insecurities taunting him. He still didn’t want to say it out loud, too nervous that others in their group, humans especially, would laugh. 

Instead, he shrugged and made a point to watch every step he took to make sure he wouldn’t stand on anyone else’s remains. 

Edge held him tighter, and soon began to nudge him this way and that. Stretch realized that he was helping him to avoid the graves. Oh, he loved this monster. 

Trusting Edge to keep him safe, he leaned in a little more and when they stopped to hear the tour guide speak again about the origin of zombie legends, stretch rested his head on Edge’s shoulder.


	8. Haunted House (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very tired and this hasn't been edited as much as I normally edit stuff, so please forgive any glaring mistakes. I wanted to get this out tonight so I can feel like I accomplished something writing-wise.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Characters: ** Edge, Stretch  
**Pairing: ** Spicyhoney   
**Rating: ** M  
**Warnings: **typical haunted house shenanigans, spookiness, semi-graphic depiction of a rotting corpse spirit, implied/mention of murder of lesbian couple for both homophobic and racial motives, implied/mention of child murder, rotting spirit is not a child, horror/comedy, more on the horror side with a dash of comedy, Edge isn’t taking anyone’s bullshit.

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

When Stretch first moved in with Edge, he was surprised to hear him say that his house was haunted. Stretch would never have taken Edge to be the superstitious type, but to each their own. 

He’d spent multiple nights with Edge before and had never experienced anything past groaning pipes and settling floorboards. Once or twice he came across a light he thought he’d turned off that was still on. He could see how things might convince a superstitious person that there were spirits and whatnot around. 

He’d been living with Edge now for a month, and still hadn’t come across anything that he couldn’t explain with science. Edge never seemed scared or bothered by anything, but he did ask Stretch rather frequently if he’d had any unsavory experiences when alone in the house. 

He hadn’t. Thus far, living with Edge was nothing less than a dream come true. They shared sweet kisses in the morning before Edge went to work, and while Stretch wasn’t fluent in kitchen, he did speak other household chore language. Laundry, for example, became something Stretch actually enjoyed doing. 

After two months of living together, something happened that Stretch couldn’t explain. 

He’d finally dragged his ass out of bed two hours after Edge left for work, drank a cup of lukewarm coffee, then took a shower. When he pushed the shower curtain aside, the mirror above the sink had fogged up as usual. He stepped out onto the mat and began drying himself off. When he turned to look at the mirror again, something had been written there, smudged through the fogginess to create the word, “LEAVE”.

Stretch stopped short and stared at it for a few silent seconds, a strange sensation that he was being watched tugging at the back of his mind. 

Okay. This was okay. It was probably just Red playing tricks on him. He wasn’t upset that Stretch had moved in, as far as Stretch knew, but he was definitely fond of eerie tricks. 

Red had taken to the human tradition of Halloween very quickly and had apparently decided that the holiday was created just for his arrival on the surface. He went all out, and the level of douchebaggery in his tricks and pranks increased tenfold this time of year. 

So yeah, it was probably just Red. 

Stretch shook himself to get rid of the tension still lingering in his bones and wiped the steam from the mirror. 

He didn’t bother mentioning it to Edge that night when he got home. Not only did he want to avoid causing an argument between Edge and his brother, he also didn’t want to add fuel to Edge’s belief that his house was haunted. 

A week later, something else happened. Stretch was in the basement changing laundry over from the washer to the dryer when he heard distinct footsteps descending the stairs. He even felt the presence of another person in the room with him.

“hey, babe,” he called out, “didn’t know you were coming home early.”

No response. 

He turned around only to find the room empty. Okay. Maybe Edge went into Stretch’s lab instead? He made his way into the other room to find the lights off. He switched them on, but that room was empty as well. 

Just as he flicked the lightswitch back off, he heard someone skitter across the room behind him. It was almost as if a child ran across the room. He spun around only to find the room still as empty as it was before. 

He swallowed down his fear and took a deep breath. “okay, red, this isn’t funny. you can stop now,” he called out. He went back and finished putting the wet clothes in the dryer. He picked up the hamper full of warm, dry clothes and turned to take it back upstairs when he felt a rush of air as if someone had just run past him. Not a second later, rapid footsteps ran up the stairs.

Stretch was facing the stairs. He could see them clearly, and there was no one there. 

Not even Red could have pulled that off.

With a shudder, Stretch clutched the basket closer to himself and hurried up the stairs. He turned on Netflix while he folded clothes and slowly calmed himself down. There was an explanation for what he experienced; he just wasn’t sure what it was yet. 

Going back downstairs later to retrieve the next load of dry clothes was full of tension, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Stretch laughed at himself when he made it back upstairs. Perhaps he was just tired. 

Once again, he chose not to say anything to Edge when he got home that evening. Edge didn’t ask, either, and so they went about their night as usual. 

Over the next few weeks, Stretch began to experience more bizarre things that he couldn’t explain. Things he was sure he put away were out again. Lights he knew for a fact that he’d turned off were suddenly back on. The water in the shower would suddenly change temperature, become either scalding or freezing, and more than once Stretch nearly dusted himself tripping trying to avoid the spray while simultaneously trying to turn it off. Interestingly, it never happened when he and Edge showered together.

After the third ruined shower, Stretch finally decided he needed to bring it up with Edge. 

“hey, babe?” he asked one night at dinner. 

Edge looked at him and hummed. “Yes?”

“so, random question, but does the water in the shower ever just...randomly change on you?”

Edge raised a brow. “Change, as in what?”

Shifting in his seat, Stretch wondered how he was going to explain this. Edge might not believe him if it never happened to him. But then, it wasn’t like the shower was targeting him specifically. 

“like the temperature. a couple times now it’s gotten really hot or really cold all of a sudden. i almost fell out of the tub last time it happened.” He speared a piece of asparagus and nibbled on the end of it. 

“When was the last time it happened? And how many times has it happened?”

“uh...last time was yesterday, and it’s happened three times now.”

Edge nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

Stretch took a drink of water to swallow the fear he knew now was irrational. Edge could seem angry when he was actually only concerned.

“i didn’t know it was a big deal. i’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. And no, it hasn’t happened to me. Not in a long while.” He sighed and tapped his fingers against the table, looking deep in thought. “I’ll go down and check the water heater after dinner.”

Stretch nodded. “okay. thanks, babe.”

Well, at least Edge didn’t seem to think it was part of the haunting. 

After dinner, as he’d said, Edge went down to the basement to check on the water heater while Stretch put leftovers away and generally cleaned up after dinner as best he could without using water. 

When Edge came back up, he pulled Stretch into a hug and kissed the side of his skull. 

“I think I fixed the problem, love. It shouldn’t bother you again, but please let me know if it does.”

Stretch nodded and gave Edge a proper kiss before going back to cleaning. Edge helped him with the dishes and in no time at all the kitchen was once again spotless. 

Whatever Edge had done seemed to fix the shower issue, but it seemed other, even stranger things began to happen at a much quicker pace than before. 

While watching Netflix a few days later, the channel suddenly changed to one playing some horror movie involving ghosts and demons. Stretch wasn’t big on those kinds of movies. Even if he didn’t believe in them, he could still get spooked by them.

He changed the channel back, but only a few minutes later it flipped over again. The third time it happened was when Stretch turned the TV off altogether and went to read a book instead, all the while feeling like he was being watched. If he didn’t know for a fact that Red was in a different country at the moment, he would have blamed the whole thing on that gremlin. 

He briefly wondered just how far they were capable of teleporting. A few miles at most was Stretch’s limit, but Red had pushed his limits time and again growing up in Underfell. He could probably go longer distances, but across a whole entire ocean was probably still pushing it. 

He was probably just being paranoid. The remote had been sitting next to him; maybe he sat on it wrong or something. 

Or maybe Edge was right and his house was haunted. 

No, that wasn’t even possible. 

Stretch maintained his belief that it wasn’t possible even after seeing shadows out of the corner of his sockets when he was home alone, hearing whispers when in his lab while Edge was at work, more footsteps and floors creaking and nearly getting pushed over by some unseen force while vacuuming. 

Whatever the fuck was going on, it wasn’t a haunting, and Stretch was going to find a way to live with it because he was not moving away from Edge. Not a chance in hell. 

* * *

He had been living with Edge for a full six months when it happened. 

Stretch couldn’t say he would ever get used to seeing a flash of another face in the mirror behind him when brushing his teeth before bed. It had happened more than five times already, and each time left him feeling vulnerable in a soul-deep sort of way, as if whatever he’d seen was more than his sleepiness and imagination playing tricks on him. 

That night, however, the face behind him was more than just a flash. It lingered, and the longer Stretch stared, frozen by shock and terror, the more it came into crystal clear focus. 

The face was human, feminine, and half decayed. One eyeball was missing, dark red slime seeping down her cheek and partially into her slack mouth. Dark hair was stringy and mussed up as if she’d been dragged through something terrible. 

She seemed to be standing behind him and just slightly to the left. She wore a nightgown that somehow seemed to have once been white but was now covered in blood and dirt. 

Stretch finally managed to close his eyes and held them shut tightly while he counted to ten. When he opened them again, she would be gone. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then opened his sockets. 

She was still there. Only this time, her hands, one finger bent unnaturally to the side, hovered over his shoulders. 

Fuck. Okay. This was normal, right? Normal for someone who hadn’t slept well for a few nights. He just needed to make sure he got some better rest tonight. He’d have to tell Edge they could only go three rounds tonight. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something pale shift slightly just as the image in the mirror reached forward. He jumped and turned, expecting it to be something silly he was about to laugh at. Instead, he scrambled back out of pure terror when the woman from the mirror was actually behind him, standing--no, floating a few feet off the ground--there with her good eye going pale and her mouth dripping with blood. 

“Holy motherfucking shitballs!” he screamed out as he tumbled backward and fell on his ass next to the bathtub. He pushed himself back, limbs flailing, until he was against the wall, all the while shrieking as whatever the fuck he was seeing began gurgling like it was trying to talk through a puddle of water. 

Suddenly the door flung open and the woman disappeared. 

“Stretch? What happened? Are you okay?” Edge knelt down beside him, his eye lights bright crimson pin pricks. “Are you hurt?” He reached out to feel around Stretch’s arms and back, probably searching for anything painful. 

“i saw… i think i saw... what the fuck did i just see, edge? what was that? that wasn’t real, right? i was hallucinating, right?” He realized as Edge carefully felt along his spine that he was shaking like an excited chihuahua. 

“I don’t know, love. Can you describe what you thought you saw?”

Stretch hissed when Edge felt around his lower back where he’d landed when he fell. Edge immediately softened his touch before finally helping Stretch to stand up. 

“uh… i don’t know… a woman? but not like… not really human? i don’t fucking know, dammit.” Stretch squeezed his sockets shut and leaned into Edge, grateful when his arms held him tightly. “i don’t think i’ve ever been that scared. not since we got up here. not since... but that wasn’t the same. i was numb then. i’m not numb now.” 

He was crying, Stretch realized. Properly crying and rambling like an idiot. He sniffled and finally managed to wrap his arms around Edge and hold on.

Edge nodded and rubbed his back gently. “Did she have dark hair and a missing eye?” he asked softly. 

Stretch froze, all of his shakiness suddenly gone as cold, crippling dread filled his soul. 

“how did you know?” he managed to whisper. 

“Her name is Megan. She was murdered on the property about forty years ago and buried in the backyard.”

“you’re fucking with me.” Stretch pulled back sharply and somehow managed to keep his balance. “why are you fucking with me?”

Edge sighed. “Love, I assure you I am not fucking with you. I told you before you even moved in that my house is haunted. I know this isn’t the first paranormal experience you’ve had while living here.” He took a small step forward, a test to see if Stretch would back away again. When he didn’t, too confused to do anything, he reached out to gingerly take Stretch’s hands in his own. “Megan is one of three spirits here. She was the first one to appear to me as well.”

Stretch managed to swallow dryly as he began to tremble again. “but this is the first thing that’s happened. i haven’t… nothing--”

Edge lifted his hands to kiss the backs of them. “Stretch, I want you to think about something, okay? Think about when you told me about the shower temperature. Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it literally targeted you? It happened to me when I first moved in as well, but hasn’t in a long time. It never happened when we showered together.”

“but after you messed with the water heater it stopped,” Stretch countered. 

“No, love. It stopped after I reminded Penelope that you’re welcome here and I refuse to allow her or any of the others to scare you away from me.” He pulled Stretch close again and kissed his forehead. “Megan always was the most stubborn of the three. It wouldn’t surprise me if she and Penelope came up with this idea together. It seemed rather effective.”

All at once, the absurdity of the situation seemed to catch up to Stretch. It started as a small chuckle that quickly became a fit of near-psychotic laughter. 

“how… in the fuck… can you be so fucking chill about this?” he asked through his laughter. He stepped away from Edge and sat down shakily on the side of the tub. “you have… fucking bloody mary… coming at you… and you just… what? you just tell her to go away? and it fucking works?”

Edge sighed and sat on the toilet beside him. “Actually, she’s not Bloody Mary. She’s Bloody Megan, and telling her to go away never worked. I think we finally came to something of a truce when I woke up to blood dripping down the walls and just started cleaning it up. I got a great deal on this house when I moved in because nobody else wanted it. I wasn’t about to run screaming when I’ve known how to get blood and marrow stains out of almost anything since I was four years old.” 

Edge paused a second, thinking about something, before he smiled and spoke again. “Actually, that’s probably why she’s finally shown herself to you. You haven’t been scared away yet, so she thinks she has to get more creative.”

Stretch’s laughter finally died down to small bursts of giggles every few minutes. “most of your brother’s pranks are scarier than shit they pull. i actually thought they were your brother a few times.”

Edge huffed a laugh and nodded. “Yes, I thought the same. I actually called my brother in the middle of the night, after I’d lived here for about two weeks, to tell him to cut his shit out. He of course was innocent and acted highly guilty.”

So it was true then. Edge’s house was haunted. Stretch was living in an actual, real haunted house. 

Holy fuck. 

“babe, i have to confess that i thought you were just superstitious when i first moved in.”

Edge nodded. “I thought so. I really have been doing my best to keep them in check, but I still haven’t decided if Megan or myself is the more stubborn one. I think it’s highly possible that we’ll never know. To this day, she will still try to scare me even though it hasn’t worked yet.” He stood up and held out a hand. “Now, why don’t you finish brushing your teeth and come to bed?”

Stretch took his hand and stood up. “yeah, okay. uh… edge? d’you think you could… maybe… stay in here with me?”

Instead of mocking the way he’d feared, Edge only nodded and guided Stretch back to the sink. He kept his eyes off the mirror as best he could while he finished up. 

Once he was done, he followed Edge back into the bedroom and snuggled up close to him. He didn’t let himself think too much on what he saw in the bathroom. Whenever his thoughts tried to drift that way, he’d squeeze his arm around Edge’s chest and Edge would squeeze back, chasing his fears away. 

“i love you, edge,” Stretch whispered into the darkness. 

“Love you, too,” Edge answered. “Go to sleep.”

The next morning, Stretch was woken by nightmares of the night before. Edge had already left for his morning run, so Stretch got up and stretched out his bones before sliding his feet into his slippers and putting his robe over his thin pajamas. He made his way downstairs with a yawn, trying his best to ignore the unnerving sensation of being watched. 

As he turned the corner into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Scrawled across the wall in what looked like fresh blood were the words “GET OUT”. 

Okay. This was okay.

No, this was definitely not okay by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t going to let it scare him away. 

He had to give credit where credit was due, however. If he were in Edge’s shoes and just bought the place, he would have tucked tail and ran after the first time he saw that shit. 

Instead of the screaming and running that he really wanted to do, he simply stepped back out of the kitchen and went to the living room to sit on the couch and wait for Edge to return. 

When he finally did a half an hour later, Stretch was about ready to cry. All the while he’d been waiting, he’d heard whispered voices begging for help, demanding that he leave, and threats to hurt him. Footsteps had paced back and forth across the living room right in front of him, clear as day, with nobody there to make them. 

As soon as the door opened, Stretch was up off the couch and in Edge’s arms. He was shaking again, but he felt himself calm down as Edge pulled him in tightly, stepping forward enough to shut and lock the door behind him. 

“Love? What happened?”

Stretch sucked in a deep breath. “did you happen to go in the kitchen before you left?”

“Of course. I always do. Why?” He glanced up toward the kitchen and began leading them both in that direction without letting go of Stretch. 

“Ah. I see.” Edge sighed. “That’s the second time this month.” He finally let go and stepped back. “I suppose it’s good that you showed me this before I went to shower. Do you want me to teach you the best ways to remove blood stains?”

Stretch figured he was going to have to get used to this if he wanted to keep living with Edge. Which wasn’t even a question, so he just nodded. 

Edge gave him a kiss before going to gather the supplies they needed. Stretch followed him and paid close attention as Edge explained each step of his process. 

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the evidence of the house being haunted became less and less scary. He hadn’t been very scared of things moving around in the first place, but now that he knew what was actually going on, they seemed more unnerving. 

One night a few months later, Stretch thought of something. As they sat on the couch together during a lazy Saturday afternoon, he reached out a leg to poke at Edge’s femur with his toes. 

“hey, babe? got a question for ya.”

Edge looked up from his book and nodded. “Alright.”

“you said there were three spirits here but then only named two. who’s the other one?”

He watched as Edge marked his place with a bookmark and set his book aside. He then opened his arms, and Stretch took the invitation with delight. Settling himself in Edge’s arms was always a treat.

Once they were situated and comfortable, Edge placed a kiss on his skull and began speaking. 

“Megan and Penelope were partners. They would have been married if humans had half a brain and made it legal. When they got together, Penelope already pregnant from another human who didn’t know how to take no as an answer. They decided to raise the child together instead of aborting or adopting; I believe it was Penelope who wanted children, but that’s only my assumption.”

Stretch didn’t like where this was going. He remembered all the times he’d heard what sounded like a child running up or down the stairs. He swallowed and let Edge continue.

“They named him George. When George was seven years old, their home was broken into by racists and homophobes. Penelope had dark skin, and I suppose that made her more of a target. I will never understand human logic. Regardless, the three of them were murdered and buried in the backyard.”

Edge hugged Stretch tightly. “Their remains have since been moved to a proper cemetery, but they loved this home. They were happy here for a long time, and I can’t blame them for wanting to stay.”

Stretch nodded. “yeah. damn, that’s so sad. is the kid the one on the stairs?”

“Yes. He’s also the one who moves things. He’s very mischievous, but also responds well to stern but not harsh requests to put whatever he’s moved back. If you yell at him, he’ll get angry and hide your shoes.”

Stretch laughed. “sounds like you know from experience.”

Edge nodded and kissed him. “Yes. Multiple experiences. I’ve learned my lesson, however. Shouting doesn’t accomplish anything with these spirits the way it did with my soldiers in the Underground.”

“do you think they’re getting used to me yet?” he asked hopefully.

“I think they were used to you within the first week of you being here, but they don’t like change. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a spirit. They have absolutely no control over anything that happens in their safe space. They’d like to be left in peace, but as I’ve said before, I got a good deal and I’m not leaving. I treat them with as much respect as I can for people on another plane of existence, but I’m also not going to take their shit when they act up. They can deal with me--and now you--for as long as we choose to live here. If they don’t like it, they can leave.”

Just then, the lights above them flickered. Stretch shivered, but Edge just chuckled. 

“Yes, you heard me, Megan.”

This was going to take a lot more getting used to. With Edge beside him, Stretch was confident he could manage.


	9. Hugs (G)

**Characters: **Edge, Stretch  
**Pairing: **Spicyhoney  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings: **Not really sure if I need to warn for this, but vague descriptions of someone being possibly touch-starved. Domestic fluff.

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

Before Edge came to the surface, before he traded his old name in for the new one, and certainly before he fell in love, the only hugs he’d experienced were less a traditional embrace and more a shivering huddle with his brother to keep warm on cold nights. 

Red wasn’t big on physical contact. Edge had never asked for a reason, never needed one to respect his brother’s boundaries. Whatever his reasons, Red was perfectly happy to keep anyone and everyone at arm’s length, Edge being his only exception until he grew big enough to protect himself. 

After the multiverse collapsed and they found themselves stuck in a new place with different versions of themselves, it took a long time for Edge to come to terms with the reality that physical touch here was not a threat or even a real danger. Not only that, but in certain situations it was  _ expected.  _

Edge could only assume that his preconceptions with touch had played a part in the animosity between himself and Rus in the beginning. Blue had been visibly heartbroken when both Red and Edge denied him an embrace after their first get-together, and while he’d recovered from whatever emotional pain he’d experienced, Rus had proven himself very much capable of holding a grudge.

He couldn’t say that he’d never been touched before. His Undyne had been extremely physical with her training, adamant that Edge needed to know how to fight with more than his magic attacks. He’d shaken hands and paws, had sparred and fought and won many, many times. 

And yet, the first time Papyrus touched him, a simple hand on his shoulder, he’d jerked back as if his alternate had struck him. He had apologized, but the look of pained understanding on Papyrus’ face haunted him for a while afterward.

Slowly, over time, he had learned to accept friendly touches from those he spent the majority of his time with. And slowly, over time, he found that he started to crave them. 

He fought an internal battle for a time, couldn’t say it was over even to this day, to let down his guard and accept the affection that Blue, Papyrus, and a few others offered him. He drank it in every time.

When he and Rus finally started to get over themselves and connect, Edge found that he was insanely curious to know what embraces felt like when they were more than friendly. He found himself holding back on more than one occasion; he didn’t want to push Rus away now that they were getting close. He told himself to wait until Rus offered the embrace.

The first time Rus hugged him was after their first real date. It was a quick embrace, the two of them standing awkwardly on Rus’ front step. They didn’t kiss, though Edge had his suspicious that Rus wanted to. He didn’t push for it, let the embrace end far too quickly, and reminded himself the entire rest of the evening that he was going to see Rus again soon.

After that, he still only let himself enjoy hugs when the other person initiated them. Rus began offering more often, and Edge was only too happy to indulge. 

Rus squirming in his arms brought his attention back to the present. He glanced down to see his love staring up at him, his sockets still half-closed as he slowly woke up.

“hi,” he whispered, a lopsided smile on his mouth. 

Edge smiled back. “Hi. Welcome back to the land of consciousness.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip as Rus sat up and yawned, stretching his arms over his head. As he relaxed, he settled himself back in his position, and Edge happily wrapped him in his embrace once more. 

“how long have i been out?” Rus asked, squirming to get closer.

“Only about an hour.”

Rus frowned then, turning to look at Edge. “an hour? and you never turned on the tv or grabbed a book? what have you been doing? besides being bored to literal death?”

Edge couldn’t help but crack a smile as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rus’ mouth. “I haven’t been bored at all. I’ve been watching you sleep and thinking about how lucky I am.”

He half expected Rus to balk at that. No matter how amazing he was, how many great things he did for people he didn’t even know, Rus was awful at taking compliments. Edge supposed that was just one more thing they had in common. 

Instead, Rus sat back just a little and tilted his head. “anything in particular you wanna share with the class?”

He didn’t answer verbally. Not right away. Rather, he scooped Rus onto his lap and enveloped him in a tight hug, holding him as close as they could get with Rus’ blanket still wrapped around him. Rus yelped in surprise, but he didn’t protest, not even as Edge nuzzled along his jaw, placing playful kisses as he went. 

“I get to have this, any time I want. I can just pull you into my arms and hold you close. Do you know how wonderful that is?”

Rus was oddly silent for a long moment. Edge didn’t pull back to see his face, didn’t loosen his arms at all. He could feel Rus’ soul, feel his intent, and right now he was beaming out nothing but unconditional love. 

After a few silent seconds, Rus cleared his throat. He squirmed, but only enough to pull the blanket out from between them. He wrapped it around the both of them, trapping their warmth inside a comfy embrace, and only then did Edge lift his head to look at Rus’ expression. 

His eye lights were dilated, his sockets limned with pale orange magic. His smile was bright and beautiful. 

“i know how wonderful it is for me,” he said softly. “i always love it when you hold me.”

Edge leaned in again and kissed him softly, slowly. Rus deepened it, but it didn’t go further than the brush of their tongues meeting. He pulled back and hugged Rus tightly to his chest, his soul swelling with so much love he thought it might burst as Rus squeezed him back. 


	10. Underwater (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going in order anymore. I've had this one written for a while and I love it, so now you can have it. I'm still gonna try to finish all 31 prompts, but I think not stressing about trying to get all the previous ones done before I move on will be more beneficial to me. 
> 
> This one is Day 13's prompt.

**Characters: ** Stretch, Edge, mentions of random townsfolk  
**Pairing: ** Spicyhoney?? In a way  
**Rating: ** M  
**Warnings: ** Enchantment, possible character death, reader’s decision on that, Siren AU

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

They had warned him. When he first moved to the small village on the coast of a massive lake, they had told him to stay away from the rocky shoreline at night. 

Everyone from the girl who sold flowers by the side of the cobblestone road to the man who collected his rent had told him tales of the sirens that supposedly inhabited the lake. People had gone missing, they said. Men, women, and children, all with no discrimination for age, gender, or class, had simply vanished in the dark of night. 

Stretch was all but positive it was because they’d run away. There were no such things as sirens or mermaids or vampires; no fantastical creatures to come haunting the fair folk of the village. Any village. 

Even now, as he stood on the rocks near the shore, he didn’t believe the stories. The man sitting down by the water was a skeleton like himself, and he seemed just fine. The stranger sang a song of the water, his voice enchanting in its beauty. 

Stretch had been told not to listen should he hear singing. They said that it could cast a spell on those who heard it, but surely that was all nonsense. 

He felt himself drifting closer to the other skeleton, desire to hear the song clearer pushing him to move without care for the jagged rocks beneath his feet. That voice made his soul feel alive, made him crave the feel of the water on his bones. 

As he crept closer, the other monster turned to look at him. His eye lights shone bright red, and the moment Stretch saw them he knew he was in trouble, but in a good way. He’d never seen this man in the village before, but now his soul was beating with something unfamiliar yet entirely comforting. He’d been told what it was like to fall in love, the pounding of one’s soul, the rush of giddy excitement that accompanied thoughts of the special person, and he felt all of it as the skeleton continued to sing, holding Stretch’s gaze. 

“excuse me,” Stretch stammered. “i don’t mean to interrupt your song, but i must ask your name.” He simply had to know how to find him again. 

The other smiled, something dangerous and yet so alluring in those sharp teeth. 

“My name is Edge,” he responded, his voice no less intoxicating when it wasn’t in song.

“edge…” Stretch breathed the name as if discovering some magical artifact. “my name is stretch.”

Edge nodded, then turned back to the lake and continued his song. 

Stretch listened for a moment longer before closing the space between them. Edge was sitting on something of a dock, broken and rotted as it was, his legs and most of his hips hidden in the dark water. The surface of the water appeared black, giving the lake the eerie sense that fairy tales might be real. Moonlight reflected off the top of gentle waves, further enhancing the ambiance. 

“do you mind if i sit next to you?” he asked. 

Edge looked up at him, once again meeting his eye lights with piercing red, and held out a hand. 

Stretch took it and, never minding the water soaking his trousers, sat on the dock. Edge didn’t let go of his hand, but he was in no hurry to take it back. Instead, he twined their fingers together and looked into his eyes as he sang. 

The words had changed at some point. Stretch no longer understood the language, but he didn’t care. Edge could sing made up words for all he cared and he’d still listen dutifully. 

Slowly, as if worried about startling him, Edge reached up with his other hand and traced a sharpened fingertip down the side of Stretch’s face. His soul pounded with newfound love, and he felt himself leaning into Edge, into that hand that caressed lightly. 

Then Edge leaned in and pressed their mouths together. Stretch’s should lurched, joy and confusion both warring for attention as he kissed back. Edge opened his mouth and Stretch did the same. Together they kissed under the moonlight, Stretch’s soul reaching out as if it wanted to physically leave his body to touch Edge. 

Stretch pulled back and stared in wonder st Edge, his handsome face and bright, intoxicating eye lights. 

“i don’t normally do—“

“Shh,” Edge interrupted, lifting a finger to his mouth. “Be mine?” he asked, raising their connected hands to his chest, pressing them against his sternum. “Want to keep you.”

Oh, it was all Stretch could ever desire! He nodded frantically. “yes, please. i want to keep you, too.”

A smirk passed over Edge’s face then, a dark yet comforting expression. 

Just then, Stretch felt something slither past his legs. He jumped and tried to kick it away. 

“what was that?” he asked frantically. There may not be mythical creatures out here, but surely that didn’t mean there was no danger at all. “something just touched me.”

Edge didn’t seem frightened. Instead, he squeezed Stretch’s fingers gently. “Don’t be scared,” he said softly, his voice infecting Stretch’s soul. 

But he was scared, because whatever had touched him was now trying to wrap around his legs, holding them together. 

“no, this isn’t right, something’s—“

Edge reached out and held his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. Instantly, Stretch calmed down. 

“Trust me?” he whispered. 

Stretch felt himself nod. He did trust Edge, with his entire soul. 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Stretch’s mouth again, and Stretch relaxed into it. Although some part of his soul, deep inside, tried to scream for help as whatever was around his legs wound higher and tighter, he simply didn’t care anymore. 

And then Edge shifted, straightened his spine and slipped off the dock into the lake. Stretch went with him, his sockets widening as he tried to pull back from the kiss. 

In the water, Edge seemed to transform. His glossy bones were suddenly pockmarked with old scars, and to the sides of his head were red gills fashioned with magic. Frantically, Stretch tried to wriggle free, holding his breath despite the growing ache in his head and chicest. 

Edge held on tightly. 

“Mine,” he sang, his voice carrying through the water as easily as the air. “You’re mine.”

Something in Stretch’s soul reached out, longing to give in and be whatever it was Edge wanted him to be. Another part of him still struggled, and he fought against Edge’s constricting arms and what he now realized was a long, slithering tail wrapped around his legs. 

“Shh,” Edge said again. He leaned in and kissed him again, forcing Stretch mouth open with his tongue. 

As they kissed, Edge dragged him down further, deep into the depths of the lake. 

The townsfolk would mourn him, some believing he’d moved away while others would suspect that the sirens got him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated whether or not I wanted this to be pure horror in that Edge has definitely led Stretch to his death, or if I wanted it to be more sappy and romantic in that Stretch is still alive and happy down there, somehow or another turned into a siren himself or living on as himself and supported by underwater magic....
> 
> I decided to leave that open for you all to decide. 


	11. Bitty (M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitty Red in this drabble is inspired by the jedak creature from the movie Apartment 212. If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean. If not, don’t worry about it; you don’t need to know anything about the creature or the movie in general to understand this.
> 
> One of these days I’ll remember how to write something short.
> 
> Also, this hasn't really been edited at all. You get what you get. Maybe I'll edit it tomorrow, but who knows? Enjoy?

**Characters: ** Red, Reader  
**Pairing: ** N/A  
**Rating: ** M  
**Warnings: ** Minor violence, blood, no gore, mentions of euthanasia, mostly mute Red? He can growl and hiss and stuff, but can’t speak “normally”, mild language, injury, non-graphic injury, break in, attempted robbery. 

Find the list of prompts [here](https://sheewolf85.tumblr.com/post/187843018676). 

* * *

When you made the decision to adopt a bitty, you never imagined it would end up anything like this. 

Your friends and family, even people on the street you didn’t know, would tell you endlessly how adopting a bitty had changed their lives. They went on and on about how wonderful having a bitty was, and they would talk about the things they’d do with their bitty or bitties if they had multiple. 

You had been hesitant at first. Living with depression and anxiety was bad enough for yourself; you couldn’t imagine bringing a roommate into it. 

Some people referred to bitties as their pets. You couldn’t see how they justified it; bitties might rely on their human owners to care for them, but they could speak and share their opinions and thoughts as well as any other human. They offered more companionship than most animals could. To you, they should be considered as more than a pet. 

What changed your mind about adopting one was hearing about a few that had been rescued and were in desperate need of rehoming. Like animals, bitties that were deemed dangerous or simply didn’t get adopted after a while were usually put down. There were no-dust shelters that offered unadoptable bitties a lifetime home, but they were tragically few and far between. 

The local shelter you knew of was not a no-dust shelter, and you knew that if the rescued bitties couldn’t find a home soon, they’d be put to death.

So you went down to the shelter to talk about the possibility of you adopting one of them. If you had to, you’d take the lot and try to get them to a no-dust shelter if you couldn’t handle them. 

The young man at the front desk smiled politely as he welcomed you to the shelter. He listened patiently while you explained why you’d come. Then he nodded and stood up, his smile fading to a concerned frown. 

“There were three bitties that came in after that rescue,” he explained. “Two of them have already been claimed by kind souls such as yourself. They deserve loving homes after what they’ve been through.” 

You couldn’t possibly agree more. You didn’t know much about the home they’d been rescued from, but the vague descriptions you’d gotten seemed to indicate something of a torture house. 

“This last one, though...he’s…” The young man stopped and sighed. “Well, he’s been very difficult to work with.”

You nodded your understanding. “I’d still like to see him.”

The young man--Toby, according to his name tag--pursed his lips. “That might be difficult. I’ll show you to his enclosure, but he might not want to be seen.”

He was probably too scared, the poor little guy. 

One of the things you had come to learn about bitties was that their sizes could range anywhere from small lizard to large dog. You weren’t sure what to expect as you walked down the hallway of enclosures, smaller ones stacked on top of larger ones, bitties of all sizes and colors staring at you like you were going to be their salvation.

You felt ashamed and tried to avoid eye contact. 

You followed Toby through a door at the end of the long hallway and into another short hallway with no enclosures, then through another door. This time, you found yourself in a room that looked like an exam room. The lights were dimmed, and there was a blanket draped over what you assumed to be the enclosure on the counter by the sink. 

“He doesn’t like bright lights or loud noises,” Toby explained in a whisper. You heard a startled shuffle come from the blanket. 

You nodded again. “I don’t like them either,” you whispered back.

Toby slowly and carefully lifted the blanket off the enclosure. It was bigger than you’d first thought, the part of the counter it rested on was set lower than the rest of it. You still couldn’t guess as to the actual size of the bitty inside, but you knew he couldn’t be more than a foot or two in height. 

“Hey there,” Toby cooed, “Red, someone wants to say hi.”

From the enclosure, you heard a distinct hiss. 

Toby smiled sadly at you, his voice still kept at a low whisper. “He doesn’t speak. We’re still not sure if he can and refuses to, or if he actually can’t.”

You nodded. “That’s okay. Even if he can’t speak, there are other ways of communicating.”

You stepped closer to the enclosure and peeked inside. It was surprisingly empty. There was no blanket or padding of any kind on the metal floor, though scratch marks were pretty clear on nearly every inch of it. You had to wonder if they were all from the bitty you were considering taking home with you. A water bottle like those used for hamsters and gerbils was attached to the outside of the enclosure, and a small hole had been drilled into the side to allow the nozzle to poke through. There was no bowl of food. 

Cowering in the far corner, knees drawn up and arms over his head, was a skeleton bitty. They were supposedly pretty rare, and you’d heard that all three of the ones rescued had been skeletons. 

“Why doesn’t he have anything to hide behind or a blanket?” As you asked, you realized he didn’t even have a bed. 

Toby nodded. “We’ve tried to give him those things. The others that were rescued took to them quite well, but Red...he destroys them. After the fourth bed we tried to give him, we realized it would be too expensive to keep trying. He shreds any blankets we try to give him, and we can only feed him when his magic starts to drain. Otherwise he’ll hoard the food until it starts to rot, or he’ll throw it back in our faces in an attempt to distract us so he can escape.”

That was...a lot. You knew that he probably just needed some more time to adjust, and maybe spending his time in this room wasn’t good for him. 

“Why isn’t he in the room with the other bitties?” you asked. Maybe they’d be able to help him?

“The others are afraid of him. Even though he can’t get out, he still hisses and growls, and some of them have tried to talk to him, but they all end up cowering themselves. We have him in here more for their safety than his.”

So, if you were to adopt him, you couldn’t get another bitty. That was okay. You really only wanted one to begin with. 

It seemed you had a lot to think about. 

“How long do I have to decide if I want him or not?” you asked, keeping your eyes on your potential future roommate. He didn’t move other than the occasional shiver. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was cold. 

“We can give you a week, if you’re seriously considering it. If you’re not serious, please don’t put him on hold. We would really like to see this guy adopted out to a healthy home as soon as possible.”

“I understand, and I am serious.” 

You left that day with a plan to see just how much work would need to be done to get ready for a bitty like Red. 

Your friends and family all chipped in to help you get your apartment ready. In reality, you didn’t need to do much other than set up a space for him, but you needed to purchase more stuff than you’d first considered.

You went back a few days to spend a little time with Red, introduce yourself and tell him that you wanted to be his friend. Each time was met with a hiss or a growl, and he never once unfurled himself from his hunched posture in the corner furthest away from you.

At the end of the week, you signed the required papers and paid the required fees, then you took your new friend home. 

At home, you set Red’s enclosure down on the table you’d set up just for him. He was set up in the living room where you spent the majority of your time off so he wouldn’t feel alone, and you hoped that the placement would help him to adjust to his new surroundings faster. 

You’d gotten a multi-tiered enclosure for him with little alcoves on each level where he could hide if he wanted. You put down soft shreds of fabric that you hoped he liked and wouldn’t bother you one bit if he shredded them more. You didn’t spend the money to get him a bed, not yet, but you did put in extra fabric padding in certain places and figured he could rearrange it however he liked. Once he calmed down a bit and stopped destroying things, you’d look into getting him a real bed. 

The first few days were tense, as Red never left his hiding spots when you were around. You could see the slight shine of his magic coming from the darkened alcove and so knew he was there, but you felt bad that he was so scared. His water level would decrease and the food you gave him would be gone, so you knew he was at least taking care of himself that much. 

You continued to speak to him quietly every day, greeting him in the morning with a hope that he’d gotten good rest the night before, wishing him a good day as you left for work, then telling him about your day when you got back. You asked him questions, never pushing for an answer but always leaving a silent space for him to communicate in his own way if he chose to do so. He never did, with the exception of an occasional growl or a hiss. 

The second week saw him coming out of his hiding space when you were around. Never when you were paying any attention to him, however. But one day, as you were sitting in your chair across the room reading a book, you heard a scuffle and looked over to see Red had come out of his alcove. He froze the moment you looked at him, his eye lights glaring red as he stared back. 

You smiled and turned your attention back to your book. Inside, you silently cheered for him and his baby steps forward. He moved quickly, and while you were insanely curious to see him, you kept your eyes on your book and only listened to him as he drank from the water bottle, ripped up a few shreds of blanket, then hurried back to his hiding spot. 

He came out of his hiding spot around you more often, but still only when you were busy with other things. You would smile at him and continue whatever activity you were doing. 

As time continued to pass, you began to get worried about him getting bored. All he had to do in that enclosure all day was shred blanket pieces and try to escape. You’d found claw markings near the hatch that opened to allow you to feed him. 

You talked to one of your friends who had adopted a few of the more aggressive bitties to get some idea on what they liked to play with. They went shopping with you, and you ended up with a bag full of different toys you could give to Red as he went through them.

The first one was a colorful knot of several types of fabric, pieces of it hanging out every which way. You really hoped he’d have fun tearing it apart. 

“Hey there, Red,” you said quietly as you sat down next to his enclosure. “I have something for you.”

You pulled the toy out of the bag and took the tags off of it, carefully checking it over to make sure you’d gotten everything off. You didn’t expect him to come out for a while, so it was marginally surprising when he poked his head out of the upper alcove curiously. 

He met your eyes, glaring daggers at you as though he were daring you to try him, for a long moment before his gaze moved to the toy in your hand. 

“It’s something else you can rip up if you want. I know it’s nothing special, but I do hope it will keep you from getting too bored.”

You pried open the lock that kept the hatch closed, keeping an eye on Red to make sure he wasn’t going to try to bolt. He could move very fast when he wanted to. He was staring at the open hatch as you reached in quickly to set the toy next to him, then pulled your arm back out and refastened the lock. 

“There you go, buddy.”

He looked at you again for a moment before he opened his mouth and hissed at you. 

You smiled. “I know. I’m going to leave you alone now, okay?” You patted the top of the enclosure gently before you stood up and went to get dinner ready. 

* * *

Later that night, you were woken by the most awful sound. Something somewhere was screeching like it had gotten caught in a painful trap. You knew mice had been seen in your apartment building, but you were positive that management had been setting out live traps. 

You looked over to your clock to see that it was two in the morning. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes and thought about how you were going to find the animal. You had no traps in your apartment, so it was probably outside somewhere…

Wait a second. That sound was absolutely coming from inside your apartment. 

Your stomach plummeted at the same time as your heart jumped into your throat as you thought of Red. You were on your feet and running out to the living room in a second. 

You were absolutely horrified to find your fears confirmed: Red was making that awful sound. Somehow, he had managed to pry back one corner of the hatch enough to get his head and torso through, but it caught on his hips. The hatch was compressing his spine, trying to snap shut around it. 

“Oh my god!” you howled, rushing forward to try to help him. 

You reached out by pure instinct to try to hold him still. He swiped at you, his claws digging deep and ripping the skin of your fingers open. You hissed and pulled back, all too aware that Red was still stuck. 

You reached out again, more determined, only to get the claws of both his hands digging into yours, his teeth following soon after. 

“Fuck!” you screamed. “Red, please, I’m trying to help you!”

As much as you realized he was probably in a blind panic, you needed him to let you go. You tried to pull back only to get him to dig in deeper. 

“Red, stop it! Please, honey, I need to help you out of there.” Tears of pain, worry, and your own panic were already streaming down your face. You tried to get to the lock with your free hand only to pull back quickly when he jerked toward it, your other hand still caught in his claws and teeth. 

You sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm down a little. You had precious little time before the hatch did serious damage to Red’s spine, but you had to get yourself under control if you were going to be able to help him. 

“Okay, Red,” you said as calmly as you could. Your voice still shook, but at least you weren’t screaming. “I know you’re in pain, and I know you’re scared. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Not anymore than you’re already hurting. I need to see what’s going on so I know how to get you free, okay?”

Red looked up at you, his eye lights tiny pinpricks in his little sockets, his expression one of such terror that you felt yourself sob again, your lip quivering. 

“Please let me help you.”

Slowly, Red’s claws pulled free from your hand and his jaws loosened. As soon as your hand was free, you stripped your nightshirt and wrapped it around the wounds to staunch the bleeding. 

“I need to see how the hatch is pressing on your spine, okay? I’m going to hold onto you while I do that so I can make sure I get a clear view. Is that okay?”

Red didn’t respond, not exactly. His gaze was fixed on you, his expression still as panicked as it was before, but this time when you reached out he only flinched and growled. He didn’t try to swipe you away or bite you again. 

You had been really worried that he’d pulled the hatch downward to get out. If he had, you didn’t know how the hell you were going to set him free. As you examined the trap, however, you realized that he’d pushed it out. You breathed a sigh of relief as you realized it was going to be as easy as undoing the lock. 

“Okay, I’m going to open the hatch now. I’m not sure if it’s going to hurt, Red. It might. But you’re going to be okay.” 

Without wasting another second, you undid the lock and pulled open the hatch. Red screeched again, the sound so painful and scared that you couldn’t help but apologize. 

As soon as he was free, Red tried to clamber away. His back feet were adorned with claws just as sharp as his hands, and they dug into your arm. As he tried to push away, however, his whole body spasmed and he screamed out. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Red,” you cried, reaching out to hold him steady with your other hand. “Honey, it’s okay. Your spine was just compressed a hell of a lot; you’re going to be in a lot of pain.” 

Red was growling steadily, but the sound lacked its usual malevolence. He wasn’t looking at you anymore either, his gaze focused instead on the hatch you’d left open. 

“I’m gonna look at it closer, Red. I might need to take you to the doctor.”

Red’s little body was unnervingly limp as you carried him into your room and laid him down on your bed. You took a moment to rewrap your arm and hand before going back to Red. There was an obvious dent in his bones where the hatch had pressed on them, and while you knew he didn’t have the nerve system that humans did, you were still terrified that he’d damaged something. 

“Can you move your legs, hun?” you asked, touching the bottom of his left foot. 

His leg twitched, and a new growl started up as he turned his head to glare at you. 

“Move your legs for me. Pull them up if you can.”

His first movement caused a whimper and a full-body jerk, but then he slowly dragged his feet up the bed, bending his knees until his feet were all the way up to his hips. 

“Good, okay. I’d still like to take you to the doctor, though, just to make sure your spine is gonna be okay. I think I might need stitches, too.”

You could almost have sworn he looked happy about that last part. 

* * *

Red’s spine was going to be okay. He’d bruised the hell out of it, but no permanent damage had been caused by his attempt at escape. 

As you’d thought, you needed stitches in your hand and your arm. 

After you’d been treated, you went back to the front to wait for Red so you could take him home. After what seemed like ages, an employee finally brought him out. Instead of the carrier you’d brought him in, however, they had him in metal wire cage. 

“What happened to the carrier?” you asked. 

The worker sighed. “We couldn’t get him in it.”

You snorted. “Can I at least take it home with me? I paid for that, after all.”

The worker--he didn’t have a name tag, and his badge was turned backward, so you didn’t have a name for him--looked at you in concern. 

“You really want to take him home?” he asked. “I mean, look at your hand. He tried to bite three of us when we tried to get him into the carrier. He won’t talk, can’t understand a thing, and--”

You cleared your throat, narrowing your eyes at the worker. “He’s scared,” you said, your voice hard. “He’s hurt. Yeah, he hurt me, but it wasn’t on purpose. And he might not be able to speak, but he can understand much better than you give him credit for. You’re afraid of him, I get that, but don’t you dare try to tell me that I should be, too. Now, give me my carrier so I can take Red home.”

The worker nodded, shame in his eyes, as he turned to fetch the carrier you’d be putting Red in.

You leaned down on the counter and looked in the metal cage. “I’m sorry they put you in this thing,” you said softly. “Do you want to move over to the other carrier?”

For a long moment, you weren’t sure that Red would indicate a preference. When the worker came back, Red growled and hissed. You decided to give the worker a lesson in how to treat unconventional bitties. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, Red,” you said to him. The blanket you’d put on the bottom of the carrier was still there, a bit shredded from Red’s claws but that was fine. You opened the latch and reached in slowly, giving Red a chance to calm down. He let you pick him up, you doing your best to be careful of his bruised spine. 

“Okay, now remember that you’re hurt, okay? Don’t try to run away because it will only hurt.”

Red glared at you, and you smiled back before you opened the carrier and very gently set him inside. He let go of you and laid down on the blanket. 

“See?” you said to the worker. “You just have to know how to be nice is all. You can keep the cage.”

You shut the carrier and took Red home.

* * *

Over the next several weeks, your relationship with Red seemed to grow. He didn’t hide from you as much, though he did still have days when he chose not to be seen. That was just fine, especially when you would sometimes see him out and about, uncaring of your presence as he played with the toys and, occasionally, groomed himself. 

It was interesting having a bitty that seemed so much more like a pet. You still refused to refer to him as such; just because he was more animalistic than most bitties you knew didn’t mean that he was less of a person. You treated him with the same respect you’d give any of the so-called normal bitties you encountered throughout your days. 

Red never tried to escape again, but after a while you began to notice him looking at the hatch longingly. Your family and friends would often let their bitties roam free throughout the house, with the one exception of your friend with the more aggressive bitties. They could be out of their enclosure when your friend was home, but had to remain inside when they were gone, otherwise the bitties would hurt each other or tear up the house. 

You wanted to give Red that freedom, you really did. Your worry was that he would try to escape the house. People weren’t ready for a bitty like him to be on the streets. He’d get hurt, or worse, get killed. 

So one day after work, you sat down to have a talk with him. 

“Red? I have a question for you,” you said as you gave him the raw meat that was his dinner. 

He looked at you as he ate, and something in his expression seemed to say, “yeah, so get on with it.”

“I know you want out of this enclosure, and I want to make you happy. We have to make a deal, though. Are you willing to hear what I have to say?”

He didn’t growl. Didn’t hiss. He blinked at you, nice and slow, like a content cat. You understood his meaning. 

“Okay, so if I let you out of this enclosure, you have to promise me that you won’t try to run away. And by that I mean you won’t try to get out of the house.”

He growled that time. 

“I know, but I have my reasons for keeping you here. First and foremost, because the outside world will want to kill you.”

His eye lights snapped to your eyes as his sockets widened. 

“The doctors that helped you after you hurt your spine didn’t want me to take you home. You’re aggressive. You don’t communicate like others do. None of that is wrong, Red, but a lot of people don’t think it’s right, either, and they wouldn’t understand you if you got hurt again.”

He huffed and looked down at the remainder of his meat for a moment. 

“I want you to be safe, Red. So if you can promise me that you’ll stay in the house and stay out of trouble, then I’ll let you out of the enclosure. There will be times when you’ll have to go back in, like if I have company over, but for the most part, I’m willing to give you free reign of the house.”

Red looked up at you again, holding your gaze for a long moment before he nodded. 

He’d never done that before. He nodded at you, clear as day. You couldn’t help but grin, so happy that he finally trusted you enough to communicate so blatantly. 

“Okay, we’ll have tonight be a trial run. If you can stay out of trouble and not hurt yourself tonight, then you can stay out of the enclosure.”

He rolled his eyes but got up, standing in his hunched posture, knees bent as if always prepared to run. You undid the lock and opened the hatch. 

“I’m just going to leave this open. I know there are a lot of places to hide in the apartment, but you have to promise me you won’t go into any of the vents. You could get lost or hurt in them. If you want to hide, you can come back in here to one of the alcoves, okay?”

Red took a few steps back, then turned his head to look back at the alcove you mentioned. With a sigh, he nodded again and turned back to look at you. 

“Okay. Can you get out by yourself, or do you need--”

Before you could finish your sentence, Red had already scurried up the side of the enclosure, using his claws to dig into the plastic siding, and was standing on the top of it. He looked at you smugly. 

You smiled back. “Okay, then I won’t worry about how you’ll get in and out. Do you want some clothes?”

Red growled and backed up. Okay then. 

You held up your hands. “Hey, it’s okay. No offense taken here, okay? But if you ever change your mind, just let me know. Somehow.”

Red huffed. 

“Alright, now that that’s taken care of, I’m going to go shower. Whatever you do, do it safely, okay?”

Once again, Red rolled his little eye lights. He scurried off, jumping down from the enclosure with ease and disappearing around the corner. 

You smiled to yourself, happy for your little buddy, as you got up and went to go shower. 

Throughout the night, you kept hearing little noises like Red was getting into something. Each and every time you went to go check on him, though, you found he was just exploring. You made sure each time that he knew you weren’t upset, only concerned, and went back to bed. 

The next morning, Red was sitting in a crouched position on top of his still-open enclosure. Instead of his bare bones, however, he was actually wearing something. You weren’t really sure what to call it; a gown might have been the closest approximation. 

“Good morning, Red,” you said softly.

He growled softly back at you. 

“Did you get cold?”

He met your eyes then and shivered. 

“Are you still cold?”

Red nodded. 

“Would you like a jacket? I bought it when I first brought you home; it looks like it would be pretty comfortable. It has a fur lining and everything. Fake fur, of course.”

He cocked his head to the side, his little brow furrowed like he was trying to understand what you’d said. Instead of repeating what he might not understand, you simply went to your closet and brought out the jacket you’d bought. 

It was tiny, meant for a bitty only two feet in height, but it was black and fluffy with a little red trim along the zipper. The fur lining was beige and fluffed out around the hood. It might actually be too warm now, but if he was cold he might appreciate that. 

“Here you go. Would you like to try it on?” You held out the jacket. 

Red slowly took it from you, sniffing it as he settled back into his crouch. He hissed at it a few times, but kept turning it over to sniff it until he finally pulled it on. 

“Do you know how to use the zipper?” you asked.

He glared at you, seeming to dare you to try to show him. You kept your hands to yourself. 

Instead, you watched him with a smile on your face. He huddled into the jacket, nuzzling his face into the furry lining of the hood.

After a moment, he stopped, going completely still. Your smile dropped as you watched him; his eye lights had gone glassy and he was breathing abnormally. 

Suddenly, he sneezed. 

You had to cover your mouth with a hand to keep from laughing, but that was one of the cutest things you’d ever seen in your life. He sneezed again, and that time you couldn’t stop a strangled snort. 

He glared at you again, but his usual level of malevolence seemed tamped down a bit. 

After you’d composed yourself, you managed to ask if he was hungry. He nodded, and you gestured for him to follow you into the kitchen. 

* * *

As more time passed, you and Red grew closer and you began to understand more about his style of communication. 

The first few times you had friends over, you did ask Red to stay in his enclosure for his safety. After a while, however, you began to feel guilty about it. You decided your friends would just have to get used to Red, because you hated seeing the way he looked at you when you asked him to go back inside. 

True to his promise, however, he did go back into the enclosure when he wanted to be by himself. You never bothered him when he was in there, only made sure to drop some food in if he didn’t come out for dinner. 

You had been living with Red for almost a year, six months with him free of the enclosure, when you woke in the middle of the night to a strange sound. 

You opened your eyes and looked at the clock--three thirty in the morning. As grogginess faded, you began to recognize the sounds you were hearing. Red was growling, the one that meant he was really angry, hurt, or scared. 

You hadn’t heard him make that sound in so long. Immediately, you climbed out of bed and rushed out to see if he’d gotten himself stuck somewhere again. 

As soon as you flung your bedroom door open, however, you stopped dead in your tracks. At the end of the hall was a man dressed in black with a hood pulled over his head. He wasn’t wearing a mask. In his hands was a piece of rope and a black fabric bag. 

You swallowed, debating on whether you could make it to your phone and call the police before the man could get to you. 

Red hissed, and the man glanced toward the sound, coming from behind him. 

“What the fuck is that?” He shouted. 

Terrified for Red, you abandoned thoughts of calling the police and ran forward to try to protect him if the man were to try to hurt him. 

Suddenly the man whirled back around to you. 

You were not a weak person, but you also weren’t a fighter. You had no idea what you were doing as you tried to punch the intruder. He caught your hand and pulled you up to him, twisting you so your back was against his chest. He was taller than you, stronger, and he began to squeeze your body. 

You thought about screaming. You even opened your mouth before the intruder covered it with a gloved hand. 

“Don’t even think about it, bitch,” the man hissed. 

Red screeched, and out of the corner of your eye you saw him leap down from the counter where he’d been snarling at the intruder. You felt Red’s claws in your leg, using both you and the intruder to climb him. 

You tried to shove away, to get Red away from the intruder where he wouldn’t be hurt. 

Suddenly the man screamed and let go of you, stumbling backward. He grasped wildly at Red, who had his claws and teeth dug into the man’s shoulder. The man was able to get a hold and threw Red off of him. 

You screamed his name as he fell to the floor. 

Faster than you imagined possible, Red shook himself off and ran at the man again, climbing him like a rabid squirrel and this time going for his throat. 

You finally came to your senses and ran back down the hall to your room to get your phone. You called the police, talking to them as you hurried back to see what you could do to protect your little buddy. 

The man had fallen to his knees, he was grasping at his throat, trying fruitlessly to get Red away from him. A few times, you heard Red whimper and you would only sob harder, because there didn’t seem to be anything you could do. 

Suddenly, you recalled the handcuffs a friend had given to you as a gag gift. They were still in the box in the closet, never used. You got them out, tearing at the box in the process, and finally managed to get behind the intruder and pulled his arms behind him. The handcuffs were pink and fluffy, but they did the job. 

“Okay, Red,” you said, panting. “You need to let go. Let me see what I can do to stop the bleeding until the cops get here.”

Red scurried away, leaving a trail of blood behind him, and you quickly covered the man’s throat with a towel. 

“I have no idea how you got in or if you’re going to live,” you told him, “but you picked the wrong house.”

The man only whimpered in response.

Somehow, Red had managed to miss any major arteries or airways, and the man was still alive when the cops got there. You explained what had happened, and it was discovered that the intruder had gotten in by using the key you kept hidden in a flower pot outside the front door. 

The police wanted to take Red with them, to test him for any illnesses, but you insisted they didn’t need to and gave them all the paperwork you had on the tests he’d been through after he’d hurt you. You told them three times that Red had saved your life, had acted the way he had only because the man threatened your life first. You had the bruise on your face to prove it. 

After you were finally left alone, you sat down hard on the couch and hung your head between your knees. 

“Red?” you called you. “Red, are you okay?”

Red came up to you slowly, caution in his eye lights. You held out a hand, hoping he was calm enough to realize you still meant him no harm. 

He took your fingers in his hands, claws sharp against your skin but not piercing. He sniffed your fingers for a moment, and then he scurried up your arm. You winced at the sharpness of his claws along the way. 

Red took a moment to sniff at your neck and your hair, then down the front of your shirt where the man had squeezed you. You let him investigate, keeping your hands on your knees. You had to hold in a laugh when he came back up to your neck and his movements tickled a little. 

And then, he did the most unexpected thing. He hugged you, his little arms wrapping as far around your neck as possible. He didn’t squeeze, only nuzzled his face into your throat. 

Slowly, gently, you hugged him back. 

“I love you, too, Red,” you whispered. “And I’m glad you’re okay.”

The two of you slept on the couch for the rest of the night, Red curled up under your chin.

* * *

A few days later, you found out that the intruder had been convicted of a series of crimes in your area, not the least of which was breaking into homes. You felt a little safer knowing that he was going to be behind bars for a long time. 

While you never expected Red to get any kind of recognition for what he did, you still felt that he should have gotten some kind of award. It was thanks to him that the man was caught, after all. 

Still, you never pushed the issue. You knew Red would only be uncomfortable with all the attention anyway. 

So the two of you continued to live on together, only now Red would sleep in a little bed you’d gotten for him and placed in your room. Occasionally, he would climb into your bed with you and sleep curled up under your chin. 

One night, he woke you up by nudging your head. You were asleep on your side, but your hands and blanket were in his spot. You smiled, still mostly asleep, and moved so he could curl up. After he was settled, you gently curled your hand around his back and stroked his little shoulder blades through his jacket. 

At first, you weren’t sure what to make of his grumbling. It wasn’t a growl, that was for sure, but it almost sounded like it could be one. You stopped petting him, and he stopped making that sound. He pressed into your hand, and you smiled as you continued petting him. 

The strange sound started up again, only this time it was more recognizable. It was haggard and rough, but it was growing more and more unmistakable by the second. 

He was purring. 

You smiled, resisting the urge to move so you could look at him. Instead, you simply snuggled a touch closer and continued petting him until you both fell asleep.


End file.
